


Flashes

by Sijglind



Series: Of Losing and Finding [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Depression, Drama (so much drama!), I give you action, Kaidan is a self-sacrificing fool, Kaidan's POV, Kaidan/OFC - but it's really not that important, M/M, Mass Effect 2, POV First Person, Spoilers, survivor's guilt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-06 23:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sijglind/pseuds/Sijglind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Take it easy. It's over, you're safe now."</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Yes, I was. But what was it worth when Shepard wasn't. There was a hole in my chest, shaped like him, and I thought it could never be filled again. Something cold had wrapped itself around my heart like a snake of ice, ready to crush it. I hoped it would, so everything could end and there was no pain any longer. I was nothing more than a husk that had been lucky enough to survive.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Lucky? This had nothing to do with luck. This was torture.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Survivor's guilt is a bad thing, a twisted thing, a corrosive thing. Kaidan survived, Ashley died.<br/>And now the one he loves is dead. And he isn't.</p><p>NOW WITH ARTWORK</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I give you action and drama.... sooo much drama.
> 
> I'm sorry guys, but I had to get it out of my head. :>
> 
> Ah, and yes, SPOILERS!

 

They say your life flashes in front of your eyes before you die.

 

 

I always wondered if that was true. And what would I see, what scenes would _Kaidan Alenko – The Highlights_ be made of? I don't know if there would be much personal stuff, like spending evenings with my parents in Vancouver, looking at the sun setting and painting the sky in all possible shades of red, a cool Canadian lager in one hand. Maybe I would live through my first kiss again, my first time having sex – although these two might not be considered highlights.

 

 

Or maybe there would be my time in the Brain Camp. Rahna and the other kids. Making out hidden in secret spots to avoid the teachers, throwing each other against well padded walls for training. Shared laughs in the mess. Tears being shed because of homesickness and the undeniable truth that there are people who look down on us because we are what we are.

 

 

And then the time in the Alliance. The training, the first Missions, the camaraderie. The Normandy. A smile, a name and gray eyes.

 

 

I found myself eye in eye with death at least twice in my life. But I never saw any of those flashes. Maybe it was because I didn't die. Or maybe my brain was too occupied with surviving to care.

 

 

Or maybe there is no such thing.

 

 

I'm not sorry about not having found out yet.

 

 

Φ

 

 

Sovereign died. He – it – the machine was torn to bits.

 

 

We witnessed it through the ridiculously large window of the Citadel Tower, even felt the explosion shaking the building and us with it.

 

 

It should have been a time to celebrate. To cheer and embrace each other. A time for congratulations, for medals and speeches and the pure joy of having destroyed the Reaper and saved the galaxy.

 

 

But when a fragment of an exploded gigantic machine floats towards your direction, you don't have time to think about anything else but running.

 

 

“GO!” Shepard bellowed.

 

 

Adrenaline was pumped into my system and activated my frozen body even before my mind was capable of working the situation out. My feet were working on their own and I whirled around to put as much distance as possible between me and approaching death in form of the ship's debris. There was treacherous silence around me, the sound of my fast breaths and heartbeats the only things I could hear. The stress hormone running through my veins blocked out everything, forced me to focus on saving my hide.

 

 

Run!

 

 

Sovereign's defeat vanished from my thoughts.

 

 

Run!

 

 

I was alone, there was nothing in the whole universe except for me and the huge metallic arm.

 

 

Run!

 

 

I stumbled and fell. There was no pain, but there would be. Later. Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. I didn't thank Garrus. No time. Later.

 

 

RUN!

 

 

The sound of shattering glass. Shards rained down on me and I leaped, threw myself on the ground, buried my head under my arms.

 

 

The point of no return had arrived, my fate was taken out of my hands for a higher being or chance to decide about it.

 

 

Surviving or dieing. As simple as that.

 

 

The tower shook again when Sovereign's arm hit the ground and the scream of metal scraping over metal erupted, setting my teeth on edge. If a synthetic had a death scream, this likely was it. Small pieces of debris fell down on me, tumbled on my back.

 

 

Surviving or dieing.

 

 

The sound of my approaching death grew louder with every meter the metal put behind itself, and I knew I had been too slow. Even dead – if a machine could _die_ – did the fucking thing manage to end what it had started on Virmire. I saw myself trapped between ground and metal arm, squished to a bloody, unrecognizable mass. My feverish mind painted a picture of a group of tourists, crowding the very spot I was lying on right now, listening to the guide saying, “and this is the spot where Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko of the Alliance was buried under the Reaper's arm after Sovereign was destroyed.” Oh, the irony.

 

 

See you soon, Ashley.

 

 

And then it stopped. The scream ceased, the tremors ebbed away. The citadel's alarm and the crackling of fire were the only sounds remaining.

 

 

I allowed myself to lie there for a bit, listening to the sound of my breath calming down. The Adrenaline vanished, pain came, burned in my limbs, in the cuts the shards had left on my skin, and reminded me that I was alive.

 

 

Survived.

 

 

I could hear a deep voice grunting somewhere on my right and I forced my body to collect the last energy it could offer to check on Garrus. _It's over, Kaidan_ , I reminded myself, _you can sleep soon._ I stumbled to my feet with great effort and limped towards where the sound had come from. Every time I set my right food on the ground, pain shot through the leg, and I did my best to avoid putting more weight on it than necessary.

 

 

“Garrus!” I called the Turian weakly, and he answered me with a low incomprehensible mutter, muffled by a metal plate. I saw his arm sticking out from beneath it, his hand clasped the edge in the attempt to shove it away.

 

 

“I'm here,” I assured him. “Wait a moment, I'll try to get it off you.”

 

 

My body was tired, and the helpful Adrenaline was slowly leaving my system. It felt as if I was drained. But the plate was too heavy to move it by myself. I felt a painful throbbing beneath my temples when I concentrated and moved the thing with my biotics. The migraine would not be long in coming.

 

 

“I guess we're even now,” he mumbled breathlessly when I helped him to his feet.

 

 

I opened my mouth to thank him for saving me before, but no sound came out. Something was wrong.

 

 

“Shepard...” Garrus voice was strangled.

 

 

My ankle roared with pain when I whirled around to face the debris and the aisle of destruction it had left in its wake. There was no sign of him. But there had to be!

 

 

“SHEPARD!” I screamed on the top of my lungs, and shoved Garrus' hand away when he tried to hold me back.

 

 

“SHEPARD!”

 

 

No answer.

 

 

I had reached the biggest part of the debris and my hands grasped the nearest piece of it, threw it away, and the next and the next.

 

 

Still no sign of him.

 

 

“Kaidan...” He hadn't to say it was useless, there was a part of my brain that already knew. But I could not give up. I _would_ not give up until every stone was turned and I'd found him.

 

 

“Shepard!” My voice was hoarse and it hurt, everything hurt, my hands, my legs, my ankle, my heart. There was nothing but pain.

 

 

I jumped onto Sovereign's remains, blind to the danger until the thing started to move under my weight and I stumbled backwards, thrown off balance. The impact knocked the air from my lungs, and Garrus was there, held me down by my shoulders and screamed nonsense at me, that Shepard was dead, that I could not help him, that I only risked my own life when I searched for him now, and that I was a damn soldier, and so was Shepard, and soldiers died in action. I shook my head violently, ignored the dizziness it caused, and pressed my hands to my ears.

 

 

NO! NOOO! NONONONONONOOOO!

 

 

There was something wet on my cheeks that made the dust stick to my face.

 

 

He is not dead! He can't be dead!

 

 

I don't know if I'd said it aloud. It didn't matter anyway, because there was pity in Garrus' eyes when I thrashed in his grip until all energy was drained from my body. He said he was sorry as I laid there, staring at the ceiling, and wished that my heart would stop beating and I could join Shepard where ever he was now.

 

 

Why had I always to be the one to survive? My mind traveled back to the evening before – had it only been this shortly ago? It felt like a life time, another life even – when I had asked Shepard the same question; _why me_? Now I was screaming it inside my head, at a higher being, fate, chance, I don't know. Why me? Whymewhymewhyme?!

 

 

Why him?

 

 

Φ

 

 

Garrus looked up when the plate that barricaded the doors was shoved away. I heard it but I didn't move. There was nothing to move for. To be alive for.

 

 

A cone of light brushed over me and Garrus and somebody called for Captain Anderson. I didn't care.

 

 

Why can't I stop breathing?

 

 

There was relief in the Captain's eyes when he knelt down and leaned over me.

 

 

“Take it easy. It's over, you're safe now.”

 

 

Yes, I was. But what was it worth when Shepard wasn't. There was a hole in my chest, shaped like him, and I thought it could never be filled again. Something cold had wrapped itself around my heart like a snake of ice, ready to crush it. I hoped it would, so everything could end and there was no pain any longer. I was nothing more than a husk that had been lucky enough to survive.

 

 

Lucky? This had nothing to do with luck. This was torture.

 

 

“Where's the Commander?” Realization and dread was taking over and swept the relief away. Garrus turned his head in the direction of the debris, and so did Captain Anderson, his mouth slightly open, brows knitted in disbelief and denial.

 

 

Yes, you have lost your precious hero, but there are enough others to crown as savior of the citadel and defeater of Sovereign. You would overcome your grief when the celebrating starts, but I... I would wander down the spiral further, deeper into the darkness of loss, slowly suffocated by its weight.

 

 

It was not fair to think so, I knew that, but I didn't care, because burning hate was welling up inside me. I hated the council for not believing in Shepard, I hated the Alliance, because they had been too late, I hated everything, everyone. And most of all I hated me, because I hadn't saved him. I knew there was no reason to hate the Captain... Anderson was a great man, and he had been fond of Shepard, he had helped him, backed him up when ever he could. He had believed him, had never doubted him. He had respected him.

 

 

But he had not loved him. Yes, love. That was the right word. It was more than sexual desire. It was the best, and the worst of feelings that had grown inside me.

 

 

It was my death. And it was so much crueler than crushed by Sovereign could ever be.

 

 

Anderson shook his head in regret and stood up, his face a grimace of grief. A man helped Garrus to his feet and then they dragged me to mine. The Captain put a hand on my shoulder to comfort me, or maybe himself. I didn't know and it didn't matter anyway. There was nothing that could heal the new wound inside me, except for Shepard himself. But he was dead. And so was I.

 

 

They turned towards the door when I heard it; the sound of glass being crushed under heavy military boots. But there was no glass in front of us, only back there, behind Sovereign's remains. And this could only mean one thing.

 

 

Something stirred awake in my chest, started to pound. Life was pumped through my veins and it felt as if I was born again. The snake was shattered, it's grip faded and I released a breath I didn't know I had been holding. I turned, slowly, torn between the need to see him again and the fear that it was _not_ him I would see climbing out of the rubble.

 

 

Metal was loosened under the weight of a grown man. It screamed as if it was offended by it, by _him_ being alive. But he was. There was no doubt any longer when his head appeared at the rim of the debris and I could see his shorter than military-regular hair, the familiar scar at his hairline, right over his left temple. The steel grey eyes; stern, determined and full of life, searching the small crowd of us, for something, someone. And then they locked with my own and my heart stopped, silenced by the sheer strength of his gaze and the emotion within. Relief. Only for a moment, a precious moment, I allowed myself to belief that it was about me. That he was relieved to see _me_ alive and sound, unharmed, and here, by his side.

 

 

My feet moved on their own and I climbed the debris as fast as I could without risking to topple down again. Shepard was halfway hanging over its edge, his right hand clutching a metal bar of Sovereign's skeleton to pull himself up. His left arm was hanging limply at his side, blood dropped down from a nasty gash on his upper arm. I sank to my knees next to him and resisted the urge to pull him into a tight embrace, to feel the warmth of his skin and listen to his heart beating with life. Instead, I reached down and grabbed his belt with trembling hands to pull the rest of him over the edge into safety.

 

 

“Thank you... Kaidan,” he whispered huskily as soon as he'd rolled on his back, his breaths heavy with exhaustion.

 

 

“Every time.” And I meant it.

 

 

“Shepard! Thank God!” Anderson called from the root of the metal pile that had once been the greatest threat to us, one foot already on top of the debris to rush to aid. But his plans were crossed when the plate he'd been standing on gave in and slipped clattering to the ground.

 

 

Sometimes, a snowball rolling down a mountain could cause a snowslide. In our case, a plate at the foot of a pile being moved was enough to start an avalanche.

 

 

They screamed a warning, but I already knew what was about to happen. Everybody in my situation would have known as soon as the shudders started and the ear-piercing screech of metal scraping over metal filled the air. It was too late to consider running down the pile an option so I did the only thing that came to my mind. I grabbed Shepard and dragged him to the slope I had climbed before. The ground beneath our feet was moving dangerously already when I turned and pulled him to my chest. He stared at me, wide-eyed and questioningly and opened his mouth to say something, but I interrupted him,”I'm sorry, Commander, but this might hurt.”

 

 

“Kaidan, what are you--”

 

 

He could not finish the sentence, because I gripped the back of his head, pressed it to my chest and flung the other arm around his waist. There was no time for explanation anyway.

 

 

I let myself fall backwards.

 

 

Time slowed down when we fell. I closed my eyes to bath in the feeling of his body pressed to mine, the scent of sweat, blood, smoke and _Shepard_ in my nostrils, his warmth seeping through the layer of my gloves, the sound of our hearts beating their fast rhythm in unison. For the tiniest fraction of a second all this belonged to me, and only me, to glory in, to treasure it--

 

 

My back hit the slope and my head was thrown back against it. The impact shot fiery pain through my body, knocked the air from my lungs for the second time in one day and let stars dance in my view. But I didn't let go of Shepard, grabbed him even stronger to spare him what had happened to me. Tears burned in my eyes and I gulped air greedily. It wasn't over yet.

 

 

We slid down the slope further, over a particularly sharp edge that ripped the armor at my back and the flesh beneath it open, and I tried to bite the scream of pain back, whimpered instead. Shepard's fingers dug into my shoulders and he tried to move his head and look at me, but I kept the steely grip on his head. It wasn't over yet.

 

 

There was no way that I would risk him being harmed further, even if it meant I was wounded instead. Even if it meant I would die.

 

 

The slope ended and we were thrown to the ground. With the last energy my worn-out body could afford, I pushed Shepard off me, only to roll on top of him and shield him with my body, because I was too exhausted to use my biotics for a barrier. Something hit my back, but I didn't move. A large metal bar bore its sharp edge in the ground, inches away from my head and I squeezed my eyes shut.

 

 

Φ

 

 

Warm breath caressed my ear.

Everything was alright.

I could sleep now.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beautiful artwork was made by http://rhapsody4u.deviantart.com/ and I am so grateful he did that especially for me. Thank you again, Dear!


	2. Drunken Souls

“--dan!”

 

“We need--”

 

“Kaidan!”

 

“--Medi-gel!”

 

“Wake up, Kaidan! Damn you!”

 

 

Everything was blurred, my head was throbbing. My limbs felt as if they were stuck in a Fire ant mount and the little beasts were having a party on top of them. I blinked. The light was too bright. My lids were made of lead. There was the repeated shriek of an alarm ringing in my ears. Where was I?

 

 

“He's waking up, Commander!”

 

 

Several heads appeared over me. I did not recognize them. It felt as if I should, but my head was not capable of finding the names in the depths of the black pool that was my mind.

 

 

“Kaidan!” My name was a relieved sigh. “Are you alright?!”

 

 

Was I?

 

 

“We need Medi-gel! ASAP! Come on, stay with me. Keep your eyes open. Hey, look at me.”

 

 

“But I'm tired,” I said. At least I meant to, but the only thing that came out of my mouth sounded more like _'mm tire..._

Someone chuckled, a low humming sound that was somehow comforting for me, and a hand reached down to slap my cheek carefully in a reassuring manner. I had the feeling the warm fingertips lingered longer on my skin than necessary. Or maybe my feverish brain only imagined it. It felt good anyway.

 

 

“Roll him on his side. Carefully.”

 

 

The world tipped towards me and stopped just as I thought I was about to hit the ground with my face. My back ached and burned and I could not stop the low groan of pain escaping my lips. 

 

 

“I said _carefully_!” A face appeared in my line of sight again, the brows slightly furrowed with worry. “Are you alright Kaidan?”

 

 

My heart beat faster as I finally noticed the familiar scar at the hairline, the pale gray eyes with a tinge of blue, the color of the sky after a storm, when darkness turns into light. _Shepard_. That was his name. And he was alright. At least as alright as he had been when I had pulled him off the pile of debris and into a (Kaidan-)sleigh ride down a slope larded with sharp edges and piercing metal poles.

 

 

Someone was at his side, trying to tend to the nasty gash on his upper arm. The blood was already drying at the edges, but there was still a thin line of the ruby liquid dripping slowly from it. Medi-gel was pretty potent when it came to closing wounds and first aid, but there would still remain a scar, a white reminder of victory and of sacrifices, carved into his skin for as long as he lived.

 

 

Shepard brushed the hands of the man helping him away impatiently. “Help him first.”

 

 

“But Commander--”

 

 

“Now!” he barked, and the man hurriedly stood up and vanished from my line of sight.

 

 

“You should...” My throat was clotted with dust and I coughed. “You should...” I tried again, but was stopped by Shepard rising a hand. “No, Kaidan. You're looking a lot worse than me right now.”

 

 

He smiled, and I felt warmth spreading in my stomach, it filled my whole body like balm and made my cheeks glow. It even overshadowed the warmth at my back where Medi-gel was applied to the wound.

 

 

Oh, the wonders of Medi-gel. I could not imagine how it must have been before it; waiting days, weeks and months for a wound as severe as mine to heal, threads holding the skin together so it could close again, the pain, the waiting. Of course not everything could be healed by it, but it came pretty close. I have seen men being nearly torn to bits stepping out of the med bay after one week, looking healthier than before, and now after feeling like a zombie, exhausted and wounded from battle, I was rejuvenated and stumbled to my feet with the help of Shepard.

 

 

“I'll bring you to Dr. Chakwas now.”

 

 

He took my hand and pulled me up, held me steady at my hip and slung my arm around his broad shoulders to help me walk out of the room, leaving the remains of Sovereign behind.

 

 

Φ

 

 

My head was throbbing, to say the least. Every sound was too loud; a whisper turned into a scream, drawers closed with an explosion and the constant humming of the engines sounded as if my head was stuck in a beehive. Or hornet's nest. 

 

 

Slowly I cracked an eye open – and closed it again. Too bright. How I hated the lights of the med bay. Who ever had the great idea to install them here of all places (whereas the rest of the ship's lights were as dim as those of a gentleman's club) needed to see the world through my eyes on just one of my _better_ days to see his fault. But well, there was nothing I could do about it right now.

 

 

Opening my eyes was always the hardest part. Especially here, in the med bay, where there was light burning with the force of a thousand suns. It was a long and tiring procedure, consisting of repeated opening, closing and blinking. But years of coping with the implants and the migraine they brought payed off, eventually.

 

 

“Good Morning, Lieutenant.”

 

 

Doctor Chakwas had the decency to whisper her greetings. They were thunder in my ears nevertheless and I returned them with a weak smile. She shook her head and sighed, more out of pity than annoyance, because she already knew what problems I had.

 

 

For a couple of moments she just examined me in silence with the help of her tools. It was just a regular check before she let me go, because my migraine seemed to be the only thing remaining from the battle with Sovereign, and the things that happened afterward, thanks to the first aid in the tower. Nevertheless, Dr. Chakwas had kept me in the med bay for the night, for observation and tending to the remaining wounds the Medi-gel was not potent enough to heal.

 

 

The Commander's wounds hadn't been as bad as mine, apparently, because he was nowhere to be seen. Exhaustion had taken a hold of me and dragged me into a tight sleep only a few minutes after we had entered the Doctor's realm. She had directed her full attention at me as soon as we'd stepped into the room, and gestured Shepard to one of the cots to wait for her until she had been finished with me. As far as I could make out, I must have looked a terrible mess, judging from the shape Shepard had been in. And I gave myself a bit of credit for that, considering that I had got him off the debris more or less safely. 

 

 

Remembering what I did and... _felt_ made my cheeks burn with a mixture of embarrassment and pride. I imagined Shepard's scent still lingering on my skin, the heat of his body against my own, the pressure of his fingers when they dug into my shoulders and the soft scratching of his short hair on my chin. 

 

 

“Is everything alright, Lieutenant?” the Doctor suddenly asked and laid a hand on my forehead to measure my temperature in a rather old-fashioned way. “You seem a bit hot, and your cheeks are flushing.”

 

 

I cleared my throat. “No, everything is fine. I'll just... I think I'm ready to go now, if there's nothing else, Doctor.”

 

 

She perked an eyebrow, but stepped away from the cot to give me room to stand up. “You can go, but remember to come back to me as soon as you get a feeling of dizziness, or get too hot.”

 

 

The word _hot_ made me flinch a bit, but I managed to cover it by stretching and circling my shoulders. At least a bit. Damn this unresolved sexual tension; it made an innuendo out of everything and an idiot out of me. “Thank you, Doctor.” 

 

 

With that I slipped off the cot and into the clothes she had put next to me. I made my way to the doors, and the Doctor had already turned around to occupy herself with other things, when I stopped in my tracks. 

 

 

“Is there something else, Lieutenant?” Dr. Chakwas asked me over her shoulder when she heard I had stopped in front of the door. I was unsure if I should ask her about Shepard, I didn't want to be too obvious. The woman was like my mother sometimes, and _she_ had always known what was going on inside my head – and my heart. But it wouldn't be suspicious if I asked her about my CO, would it? So...

 

 

“I just wanted to ask if the Commander is all right? Since I haven't seen him here yet, and...” I trailed off, unsure about what to say to her. There was an uncomfortable warmth creeping up my neck, and my collar felt a bit too tight all of a sudden.

 

 

She gave me a warm smile, and I hoped it was because she was touched by my concern for my superior, instead of knowing about my real (and everything-complicating) feelings. “The Commander is all right. Most of his injuries were superficial – thanks to you, as I've heard.” She straightened a bit and took a few steps in my direction. Her smile was still present, but there was something else in her eyes that I couldn't make out properly yet.

 

 

“What you did was very brave and self-sacrificing, Lieutenant. Not many would have acted like you did, and you spared the Commander a lot of pain. Nobody knows what would have happened if he would have fallen of that pile or would have been buried by it. I give you credit for that.”

 

 

I felt uneasy by her praise, and shifted my weight from one foot to the other. An embarrassed smile was tugging at the corners of my lips, and the burning on my neck had made his way to my cheeks again. “Well, thanks, I--”

 

 

“It was also very foolish.” I looked up, and the Doctor's eyes were boring into mine. Her eyebrows were arched in a reproachful manner, and I suddenly felt really small and guilty in a way only mothers (and apparently doctors) could make someone feel. “As it is, everything turned out well, but it could have turned out a lot worse.”

 

 

With a last meaningful glance she turned around again, and I, ashamed as I was now, hurried to leave. As I stepped through the door, I heard her call after me, a smirk audible in her voice, “Thank you anyway, Lieutenant. Our Commander should be happy to have someone like you at his side.”

 

 

Something in the way she accentuated _at his side_ made me feel like she knew more than I could feel comfortable with.

 

 

Φ

 

 

I wandered around the ship in the hopes of finding Shepard. I didn't want to ask if someone had seen him, because I felt on edge the whole time. The Doctor's last comment made me feel as if I'd been to obvious with my feelings, although I had always tried to act as if there was nothing more than dutiful devotion for him on my side.

 

 

Did everybody knew, or at least have an assumption of what kept me up at night and nervous around him?

 

 

The Normandy was nearly empty apart from a few crew members that were busy with bringing the ship back to her old standards. Joker was – of course – on the bridge, eagerly keying reparation protocols into the console, mumbling with clenched teeth that the Reaper should be put back together so he could rip it apart again for what it had done to _his_ ship.

 

 

“Good morning,” I greeted him and he answered me with a short and jerked nod, too occupied with repairing his precious Normandy. For the lack of anything else to do, I slipped into my usual seat and called up the status of the ship. So far, it didn't look too bad; a few scratches on the left side and a hull breach on the right where a part of another exploding Alliance ship had hit. The engines were fully functional, and only one of the water reserves had taken damage. 

And the Mako had caused a bit of ruckus in the cargo bay since his security locks had been turned off due to a malfunction caused by a small electric fire, but nobody had to suffer more than a sprained ankle from that incident.

 

 

So far, it seemed the Normandy had been one of the luckier Alliance ships. 

 

 

My hand hovered over a blinking icon; a message to all remaining ships, reporting status over the destruction and losses of the Alliance Fifth Fleet. The Reaper had taken a lot from us, I had seen it first hand through the Citadel Tower's window: exploding ships, others being cut to pieces, colliding with remaining ships. It had been dreadful. 

 

 

And when _one_ of these ancient ships could bring so much destruction, I asked myself, of how much was a whole fleet of them capable...?

 

 

I turned the screen off and raised to my feet.

 

 

“Joker,” I said and he finally looked up questioningly, a bit of annoyance visibly in his raised eyebrow, but I didn't let myself be put off by it. “Where's the Commander?”

 

 

“Shepard? He has a meeting with the council. I guess he's trying to convince them that Sovereign wasn't the only one. But if you ask me, they won't believe him. To them, one Reaper doesn't seem to be enough to talk about an invasion.” He shrugged and turned towards the console again, ending our one-sided conversation, and I left to give him his space.

 

 

Φ

 

 

The Citadel was a mess. The streets were clogged with debris of Sovereign, other ships and of the citadel alike, making walking sometimes rather hard. Keepers could be seen everywhere and I wondered if there was _anything_ that could make those mysterious creatures nervous or frightened. They were walking calmly around on their four legs, working at consoles or simply vanishing into the huge ship's entrails to take care of their home. Either they were the most indifferent species I had ever laid my eyes on, or they were familiar with these kind of situations. 

 

 

Well, I guessed, as far as we knew the Citadel did indeed exist since a very long time and the keepers had already been there when the Asari discovered the ship. So, it was likely that they had found themselves in similar situations before. 

 

 

“Kaidan!” I snapped out of my musings and saw Liara hurrying towards me, a smile on her beautiful face. She captured me in a tight embrace before I could do so much as greet her back. I was a bit surprised over her sudden display of affection, but gave my best to return the gesture. We stood there for a moment, hugging each other, and I had to admit that it felt rather nice after all the things that had happened. Shortly, I closed my eyes and let my exhaustion, dark memories and the pain of loss be washed away by the comforting warmth of the Asari.

 

 

Then we let go, our hands sliding along our arms until they found and held each other. Her smile was fondly and her eyes shining happily, but they were still unable to chase the lines of exhaustion on her forehead and the dark rings under her eyes away.

 

 

“I am happy to see you well and on your feet again,” she told me, only letting go of my gaze for a quick glance over my body to make sure I had indeed made my way out of our last encounter with Sovereign safe and sound. 

 

 

“Well, you know Dr. Chakwas,” I said with an amused tone to my voice. “She is a true artist when it comes to patching me back together.”

 

 

Maybe her laughter over my remark was a bit too loud, and maybe it came a bit too fast, but maybe it was just what we needed right now, and that's why I joined in so we laughed together until we were eyed suspiciously by passersby. But we didn't care, and continued laughing until we had chased every last burden on our shoulders away and our hearts finally felt so much lighter than they had in months.

 

 

Laughter is the best medicine, they say.

 

 

Φ

 

 

Alcohol, dim lights, the music's heartbeat thrumming in my ears and ribcage, body's pressed together, moving together like one being drifting in the flux of the synthetic rhythm, air thick with sweat, hormones and smoke. 

 

 

Celebrating survival by numbing your nerves and senses with alcohol or overstraining them with drugs and sex. 

 

 

Today nobody cared which planet you came from, if you were a part of military forces or a trader from the black market. Your salary was unimportant, your looks were unimportant. Even your name was. You were still alive, and that was the only thing that mattered.

 

 

The ecstasy of survival reduced us to beings of primal instincts, and as different as we were, there was one thing that every species had in common: the body's demand to pass on its genes before it was too late.

 

 

Φ

 

 

I found him on one of the sofas squeezed into a corner of the club, sipping a beer and watching the movement on the dance floor. His eyes were distant, as if he was looking right through the bodies before him at something that nobody else could see. On the sofa next to him was a knot of bodies, entangled in ecstasy. Shepard didn't seem to care or even be aware of them.

 

 

He didn't even look up when I sank down onto the cushions next to him. For a moment we sat together without talking, only staring at the people drifting in front of us and taking the occasional sips from our beverages. Somehow, in a very strange way, it was comfortable. It was like we were there in the club, surrounded by too loud music and dancing people, but at the same time miles away, in our own little shared world. I wondered what would happen if I broke the silence between us. Would it break the spell, did he even notice me? Was he aware that I was there, and that our knees were so near to each other that they were nearly touching? Or was his mind as far away as his gaze, occupied with things that shouldn't matter now that Sovereign was destroyed and Saren was dead?

 

 

All of a sudden, I felt the urge to say something, make him become aware of my presence and look at me and forget what he had in mind. He should celebrate like anyone else, and not think about the things the Council had said. The threat was averted, the reaper was gone, and yes, the machine might have talked about more to come and that he was just “the beginning”, but they wouldn't knock on our doors tomorrow. He should forget his duties for a moment, lean back and look at the people he'd rescued, look at the things he had achieved not the things he hadn't been able to do. 

 

 

My hand fiddled with the rims of the bottle's label, peeling it from the glass on the edges. I was a bit at a loss of words, and had no idea how to break the silence between us without making it awkward. And maybe Shepard just wanted to sit here and think in peace while he stared at the people in front of him. Maybe he wasn't even thinking about all the problems he couldn't have solved right now, but about all the lives he had saved and was enjoying the celebration in his own silent way. 

 

 

Maybe I should leave him to it.

 

 

But when I made efforts to leave, he finally said something. “Thank you, Kaidan.”

 

 

Dumbstruck, I paused mid-movement, caught in the act of heaving my body off the soft cushions, not sure if I should still leave or stay with him now that he had finally said something to me. So I blurred out, unable to make the connection to what he was referring to, “Sorry, what?”

 

 

Shepard chuckled and took another sip from his beer. I was sitting on the edge of the sofa and he gestured me to lean back and make myself comfortable again. Relieved, I did as told and tried to bring my treacherous heart back into his normal and healthier rhythm. 

 

 

“I never thanked you for _helping_ me down that pile,” he finally continued with a low chuckle. “It was quite the experience.”

 

 

I cleared my throat awkwardly and thanked God for the red and dim light of the club making it unable for Shepard to see my embarrassment being mirrored on my red face. “Well, you're welcome,” I said. “I guess it's never too late for new experiences.”

 

 

Shepard rewarded me with a lop-sided smile, but its place was soon taken by a serious expression. “You know that you didn't have to do that.”

 

 

“Yes,” I sighed and remembered Dr. Chakwas' words from earlier. 'Foolish', she'd called my actions, but also brave and self-sacrificing. “But I wanted to,” I continued before I could have stopped myself. Hastily I stammered, “Well, I mean, I couldn't--”

 

 

“I am sorry Kaidan,” he interrupted me, raising his voice. “I didn't catch what you said. It's too loud.” He gestured in the general direction of the dance floor to underline his point. Well, a club was really not the best place to have a conversation, maybe we should put it off until later--

 

 

My heart skipped a beat when Shepard leaned in towards me, bringing his body awfully close to mine. He'd caught me off guard, I didn't know how to react, what to do, or even what he was planning. All I _could_ do was sitting there, frozen, and waiting for what was about to happen. He couldn't be planning to kiss--

 

 

“Let's go outside,” he spoke into my ear, and I could feel his hot breath whispering over my auricle and the sensitive skin beneath it. Immediately, shivers ran down my spine and made my hair stand on end. I nodded jerkily, to afraid to open my mouth and give way to the stupid things that might fall out of it.

 

 

On quivering legs I followed his broad back through the dancing people, bumping into them again and again until we were outside. 

 

 

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. There was nothing about what Shepard had just done that should have put my on edge like this. He'd simply wanted to tell me we should go outside. I should stop interpreting more into that innocent action, than there really was. It's what people do when they are in a loud environment. There was nothing about it, Kaidan, I told myself. Calm. Down.

 

 

Shepard walked a bit further to the balcony ahead of us and leaned onto the parapet as soon as he'd reached it. I joined him shortly after, inhaling as much of the clean and cold air as I could, enjoying the feeling of it on my hot skin. So we stood there for a while and looked down on the Citadel, already being busy again.

 

 

He was once again the one to break the silence. “So, thank you again, Kaidan.” I turned my head to look at his profile and saw him smiling and staring into the distance. I followed his line of sight, but couldn't make out anything in particular. 

 

 

“You're welcome,” I finally said and turned around to lean with my back against the railing. My gaze caught the long line standing in front of the club we've just left, waiting to be let in. Even now, the bouncers didn't let everyone in, and a group of frustrated turians was complaining strongly about it. “Some things never change,” I said and shook my head.

 

 

“Yeah,” Shepard answered without being aware of what I was talking about. “Ask me about it.”

 

 

“The Council?” I began and he answered with a defeated nod. “I thought a Reaper showing up on their doorstep would be enough to make them aware of the things going on, but they still don't believe me. They say I'm overreacting and that Sovereign was alone.” He sighed exhausted. “It seems all has been for nothing.”

 

 

I sneered in disgust about their behavior. “Unbelievable. After we have lost so much...” I trailed off, because an image of Ashley came to my mind and immediately I felt guilt burning hot inside me again. Biting my lip, I shook my head to shove it away, and it vanished, but left an uneasy feeling behind. “Well, but we've won for now. We should celebrate.” Turning towards him, I clapped on his shoulder in what I hoped was a comforting manner. I felt like I had to cheer him up somehow, if only for a night. “Let's go back in, have some drinks and fun and forget the Council and the Reapers for a bit.” 

 

 

His smile grew bigger, until it was bright and boyish and genuine and able to make my heart stop for a second. How long had it been since I had seen him smiling like this? Months, at least. Before everything had joined the downwards spiral. “Come on,” I said and slung my arm around his shoulders to drag him towards the door, overconfident now. “We have to celebrate our victory so Ashley can see us from wherever she is now.”

 

 

I wanted to bite my tongue off. Seriously, I really wanted to bite it off. There was so much nonsense the thing could produce as soon as I set it free...

 

 

Shepard stopped in his tracks. 

 

 

I was an idiot. Such an idiot. The least reasonable thing I could probably have done in this situation was mentioning Ashley. 

 

 

“Well, maybe another time,” Shepard began, something dark clouding his eyes. “I think I should call it a night now. It was a long day.” He slipped out of my grasp before I could protest and had already taken a few hurried steps before I found my voice again. 

 

 

“Good night,” I finally called after him, and he turned around to wave. I lifted my hand to return the gesture, but he'd already looked and turned away, climbing a stair hastily, his shoulders slumped. My hand fell limply back to my side and I followed his retreating back with my eyes until he'd vanished around a corner.

 

 

I resisted the urge to hit my head against something really hard. Not even that could cure me from my idiocy. 

 

 

“I am such an idiot.”


	3. Drowning

The first beer was soon followed by a second and a third. I must have looked pitiful between all the celebrating people in the club, sitting hunched over at one of the bar stools, nursing my already stale beer.

 

 

“You look miserable,” the barkeeper told me when he put down a dangerous looking cocktail in front of me. “Something to cheer you up, mate.”

 

 

He winked at me and left to serve something to a turian further down the long bar. I looked suspiciously at the colorful liquid, unable to make out what it was exactly. It had a sweet, strong, alcoholic smell, and I considered just leaving it standing there and sticking to my beer. But then the barkeeper appeared again, smiling encouragingly. “C'mon, give it a try, it's on the house. You sure look like you need this.”

 

 

Well, why not, I thought, it's not as I have anything better to do. At least my mouth would be occupied by drinking. Determined to keep more nonsense from falling out of my mouth and still depressed from how I had scared Shepard off sooner, I took a big gulp from the cocktail, completely ignoring the straw sticking out of it. I regretted it not even a second later. The drink burned all the way from my lips down to my stomach. It was so strong that I started coughing violently and my eyes filled with tears, and I was reminded again of _why_ I had never been a friend of cocktails. 

 

 

“God damn!” I spluttered, much to the amusement of the barkeeper. “What do you put in this glass? That's no drink anymore, that's a fucking weapon!” The man on the other side of the bar laughed loud while I cleared my throat audibly and tried to regain my composure.

 

 

“You know there is a reason I serve it with a straw, mate,” he said, still giggling and wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. 

 

 

“Yeah, I should have seen that coming,” I admitted and smiled weakly, slowly getting infected by his good mood.

 

 

“Ah, so you _can_ smile,” he noted with mocked surprise and one of his winks. Either he had a problem with twitching eyes, or he was just one of these people who felt the urge to show that they were using irony by winking. Anyway, he had been right, the thing was helpful. Either it was the drink or the barkeeper himself, but my foul mood was already getting a bit less overwhelming. 

 

 

“Sometimes,” I said and sipped at the drink through the straw. It was certainly better that way. It still burned, but the sweetness of the drink was no longer overpowered by it and the raging red liquid turned into something at least drinkable. 

 

 

“Now tell me how it comes you're not celebrating like the others?” He leaned in over the bar, bringing himself closer to me in a manner of comforting companionship; main job barkeeper, agony column on the sideline. I merely shrugged for an answer, not comfortable – or not drunk – enough to tell someone I've never met before of my feelings and problems. “Ah, I see,” he said, understanding, and with something dark clouding his eyes and mood. “You've lost someone, huh?”

 

 

“Well.” He straightened himself again, signaling someone at the other end of the bar that he would come over soon. “There's no medicine for that but time. But maybe, if you're looking for some comforting company, the girl over there just looks like she would be happy to oblige.” He nodded towards a woman with a shock of red hair somewhere on my right. I risked a quick glance at her, and was answered with a not-so-shy smile. Turning away again, I told him, “I'm not the type for that.”

 

 

He exhaled through his teeth, a broad grin on his face. “I see. But with your looks I bet there are enough men in this room willing to give it a shot.”

 

 

Blushing furiously, I gave my best to set things straight hastily. “I meant I'm not the type for one-night-stands.”

 

 

“Sure, mate.” And with an all too knowing smirk and a wink he left me alone with my cocktail.

 

 

Φ

 

 

I stayed in the club for another couple of hours. My new friend the barkeeper, whose name I didn't even find out over the course of the night, paid me visits repeatedly over the time I was sitting at his bar, switching my empty glass with a filled one whenever he felt like I needed to relax more, with the result that I had told him everything about my feelings by the end of my third glass. 

 

 

“Well, if you'd ask me, you should at least give it a try and tell this Shepard fella of yours what you feel. Better than carrying it around with you forever,” he gave his advice with a lopsided smile that said _I know how you feel_. 

 

 

“But what is when this destroys everything,” I slurred, my tongue heavy with the effects of the alcohol, making a sweeping gesture with my glass still in hand so that some of my fourth drink swapped over the rim and on my shirt. I didn't notice. “I mean, what if he... yeah... says he doesn't like me back? And all my attents-- attems--... _tries_ to get my feelings right are wasted. Like _poof_. Gone. Wasted.”

 

 

“ _Poof_ ,” he echoed, smiling pitifully. “All I can say for sure is that the only thing wasted right now is you. Maybe you should go home and decide tomorrow, mate.”

 

 

“Right.” I nodded and set my glass back on the bar with more force than I had originally planned, so that more of the cocktail swapped over my hand. I wiped it off on my shirt. “Right. I should go. Thanks _mate_ ,” I giggled, “for your help. You're a true friend. A truuuee friend. Thanks... I should... go.” 

 

 

“Yeah, go home and sleep it off. Tomorrow will be better.”

 

 

“Yeah.” Slipping off the stool, I steadied myself on the edge of the bar and staggered out of the club, nearly bumping into one of the bouncers in front of it. I received an annoyed glance and stammered my apologies, making me on my way to the Normandy, when I heard him say, “Another one that doesn't know when he'd had enough.”

 

 

He was _definitely_ right.

 

 

Φ

 

 

It took me some time until I was back at the ship. Probably because I had to stop every once in a while to lean against a wall, and most likely because the remaining debris turned the Citadel's streets into a parkour for my drunken self. The good thing was that over the time some of the alcohol was already filtered out of my system and I was not as drunk as when I had started my journey back home.

 

 

The bad thing was, that I had drunk enough to be still not considered sober when I finally reached the Normandy. 

 

 

At least I could blame it on the alcohol that I found myself standing in front of Shepard's cabin instead of my own.

 

 

The barkeeper's advice of telling my Commander of my feelings had been burned into my mind and I had rolled around his words in my thoughts for the whole way. Now I was standing here, in front of Shepard's cabin, my hand hovering over the button that would announce my presence as soon as I pressed it. Should I take the risk?

 

 

I was sure Shepard was already sleeping, after all he'd said goodbye to me hours before to go to bed. I was drunk enough to take risks, but not the risk of waking him up after he'd finally been able to find some sleep. 

 

 

So I let my hand fall back to my side. But I was not ready, not _able_ to give up yet. I was carrying these feelings around for far too long, and I had gotten to a point where I had to voice them out aloud or they would eat me up until there was no going back. If Shepard was not there to hear me out, then his door would have to suffice.

 

 

“Shepard,” I began and took a few steps back so I was able to lean against the wall opposite of his cabin. “I have to tell you something. It's not easy for me, and maybe you'll understand it. Well, I bet you would understand it _if_ I was talking to you... I mean, you always understand, you are _Shepard_ , I think there is nothing you wouldn't at least _try_ to understand. I mean...” I inhaled deeply and shook my head. This was getting me nowhere. But I had started it, now I could at least bring it to its proper end and go to bed. The only thing I hoped for was that Shepard didn't choose the wrong time to stand up and come out of his cabin to see me standing in front of it and hear me making confessions to his door.

 

 

Sighing, I let myself slip down onto the ground, so I was sitting with my back against the wall, one of my knees bent and drawn to my chest, the other leg sprawled out in front of me.

 

 

“Forget what I said, I'm gonna start again.” I propped my elbow up on my knee to lean my forehead against my palm, supporting a head that suddenly felt too heavy. 

 

 

“I have to make a confession...” I started over. “I think I love you, Shepard. No, I _know_ I love you. This is something that goes further than desire ever could. Maybe it started with desire, but it ends – or maybe never ends – with love. I am certain since I thought I lost you forever. You remember, after the fight with Sovereign? I don't know how long I thought you were dead, maybe it was just five minutes, or maybe half an hour, but it already felt like eternity. 

 

“It was terrible. I felt, well... _shattered._ Incomplete.” I ran my fingers through my hair, searching for the right words to describe my feelings back then. “It was just horrible. I have no words to describe the pain, the... _emptiness,_ the despair upon losing you. I would rather be made one of Sovereign's Husks than have to feel that again. God, I _was_ a husk!”

 

 

I drew my other leg to my chest as well and folded my arms on top of them. I made myself as small as possible to not get hurt now that I opened my heart so wide.

 

 

“No, that's not true. I was no husk, it wouldn't have hurt so much, otherwise...

 

“I know that there is no future for us. No fraternization, right? How could you save the galaxy again if you were too occupied with saving me, huh? And to be honest, I would change my feelings for you if I could, make them disappear, but I can't. Even if they don't affect you, they affect me, and I... I just can't live with it anymore. Day and night I am thinking of you. I get nervous around you. I don't want you to know, because I know that you would care about it – you wouldn't shove me away, no, you are too good to do something like that. You would be there for me, you would open your arms wide to comfort me, and, and... I don't know what would happen, but it just can't work out, because... well, it can't. And I don't think that you would ever be able to return my feelings anyway. This would be too good to be true...

 

“But now I am left alone with my feelings for you, and it slowly eats me up from the inside. Whenever I see you, it's just... so hard to concentrate, to think straight and _not_ about you! You distract me. Fuck, I nearly stepped on a mine because I was _staring at your back_ and thinking of what I dreamed about-- yes, it's true, I dream of you. I don't want to go into detail, but I shouldn't be dreaming of you like that, you're my CO, my superior, and you're driving me insane simply by _existing_. Everything about you just makes me... go crazy, makes me want you so hard it hurts. I don't know what to do!”

 

 

I let out a long, exhausted sigh and leaned my head back against the wall, closing my eyes. It felt good to say what I always wanted to say to him without facing the consequences. It helped me understand my feelings myself, and maybe, through that, I would finally become able to find a way out of this.

 

 

“I tried to get rid of my feelings. Really, I tried. I even wanted to tell you that I would ask for a transfer as soon as we would be done with Sovereign, that night I was standing in front of your door. But I didn't. Instead, I started to say all these stupid things to you, because, apparently, I am truly talented at saying stupid things around you, and I was asking you that goddamn question I still have no answer to. I haven't the slightest idea why you would choose me over her, when... when it seemed as if you were in love with each other. I don't know, but if you felt as much for her as I feel for you, then you must be in a bottomless pit right now, and I, the idiot, brought her up again when you were having something coming close to fun!”

 

  
“I am sorry, Shepard. For everything. For Ashley dieing, for mentioning her... for my feelings. I know, telling this your door doesn't help you even a bit, but it is all I can do for now. Maybe... maybe sometime I will be able to say all this to your face. If you still want to hear it then. I don't know what lays ahead of us, but if Sovereign wasn't lying, then there is a lot of shit coming, and maybe we won't have the time to talk about feelings then.

 

“Maybe one of us won't have the change to talk ever again... I just hope that, if it should happen,... that I am the one who dies, because the galaxy needs someone like you. Even if it doesn't deserve you, it still needs you.”

 

 

I paused. The fact that I was talking to a door didn't make it easier to say the next words out loud.

 

 

“And I couldn't live without you.”

 

 

Stumbling to my feet, I went back to my cabin and let myself fall into my bed and a dreamless, but deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than the others, but I felt like it had to stand alone. The next one will be longer.


	4. Dancing towards the End

The next morning was hell. There was nothing about me that did _not_ stink of alcohol and I felt the familiar stinging of a beginning migraine behind my eyes. I couldn't decide if it was good or bad that I remembered everything I'd done the night before, including, of course, the monologue in front of Shepard's bedroom door. I only could be thankful for not being drunk enough to actually ring the bell on that door.

 

 

For now it seemed that I was the only one knowing of what I had done the night before, and I hoped desperately that it would stay that way.

 

 

My friend the zombie greeted me again out of the mirror and the cold shower was sadly not enough to get rid of him. But at least I joined the crowd – the greater part of the crew had been celebrating yesterday, and we all shared the same blue rings beneath heavy lidded eyes, squinted to block most of the light out. Pressly was even wearing sun glasses, as if everyone wouldn't know what he'd done the night before. The mess was full, but the volume of speech had been reduced to its minimum, so that people talked, if at all, only in whispers. Nearly nobody was eating, but everyone was arming themselves with a coffee and a glass of water in which one of Dr. Chakwas helpful anti-hangover medicines was dissolving.

 

 

I was happy to not be the only one.

 

 

After finishing my coffee, I strolled over to the cockpit, slumping into my seat next to Joker, who was humming a cheery melody, and typing God-knows-what into his console.

 

 

“Had a long night?” He asked with a smirk, a striking image of energy and good mood. 

 

 

“Don't ask,” I said and got rid of an offensively beeping message on my console with a flick of my wrist. 

 

 

“That's answer enough,” he snickered and continued with whatever Joker was doing the whole day when the Normandy was in the bay. I could only hope he'd do it in silence.

 

 

Φ

 

 

For the first month, we were dancing an awkward dance around each other. For every step one took, the other took one back, an endless back and forth of cowardice and what-ifs holding us in place and the distance between us constant. 

 

 

Looking back now, I see how foolish I was, and how eager to find excuses to not tell him what I truly felt. Maybe telling him would have helped me sleep. Maybe doing it would have put an end to the dreams. Or maybe then I could have started to actually enjoy them, because they gave me what I longed for so much.

 

 

But I kept carrying my burden around with me, every day, every boyish grin, every praise, every glance adding more weight to it, making it grow and grow, making my knees bend more and more until it was only missing one small thing to make me buckle under its pressure. 

 

 

In the end, the thing that came was not small, but huge, and it buried me alive.

 

 

Φ

 

 

It was ridiculous. I had never liked the Council, but this was just offensive and dumb. There could be no other way more obviously showing that they wanted to get rid of Shepard and his warnings. It made me wonder how they could be so blind. They hadn't taken him serious the first time, and Shepard had proven them wrong, but they handled it as if he'd just had been lucky, not well-prepared and reasonable. 

 

 

They should be kneeling down in front of him, begging for forgiveness, but now they were sending him on a Geth hunt, completely ignoring the real threat and giving way for everything yet to come with Shepard out of reach. It was frustrating.

 

 

A month had passed since the fight. Liara, Garrus, Wrex and Tali had left the ship. Now there was only Alliance crew left on the Normandy, and somehow, it felt strange. Ashley's absence was more perceptible than ever, now that everyone else was gone. The only members of the usual shore party left where Shepard and I. 

 

 

I rolled around in my bunk, unable to find rest. There was nothing to do, so far. We had left the Citadel two weeks ago, and apart from minor encounters with Geth ships, it had been awfully quiet. Nearly peaceful. I should have been happy, but the problem was that I was once again forced to over-think my feelings for the lack of anything else to do. They crept into my mind whenever I was alone and not occupied by my usual work, and it got so far that I had started to clean my rifles to distract me. 

 

 

It had worked, at first. But soon there had been no reason to clean my rifles every day without an operation to get them dirty in the first place, so I had started to clean Shepard's rifles as well. However, I got so used to doing it, that my body started to do the task on its own, so that my mind was not occupied any longer and I had enough time to sink into my usual vortex of confusing emotions and desire. God, how I hated it.

 

 

This was useless. Rolling around in my bed and staring at the ceiling would get me nowhere, so I decided to stand up again. It wasn't that late, and maybe I could look over the rifles or the Mako. I would find something.

 

 

My plans were soon shattered, however, when I exited my cabin only to see Shepard sitting in the mess, reading a datapad, a steaming cup on the table in front of him. Unable to decide between making him aware of me or just leaving him alone with his work, I stood there and watched him. There were still worry lines on his forehead and around his eyes, but they had become less over the last month, together with the blue crescents under his eyes. Still, his hunched posture gave way of the burden he was still carrying around, and I felt the sudden urge of helping him get it off his shoulders, at least for a bit. 

 

 

Confidently, I took a few steps towards him announcing my presence, “Evening, Commander.”

 

 

He looked up, an expression of surprise momentarily getting hold of his face, but vanishing immediately. So he hadn't heard me coming out of my quarters, too occupied by his work to notice anything around him. I wondered if I'd made a mistake, but Shepard smiled at me and laid the datapad down next to his cup. Apparently, he was glad about a distraction. “Lieutenant.”

 

 

That he didn't use my first name stung a bit, but I ignored it. Seriously, what did I expect after I had avoided him for the past month, too ashamed of what I had did that night in front of his door, and too scared of giving it away. I shoved the memories away, there was no time for it now, and took another few steps forward until I was standing near the chair opposite of him. “Do you mind if I join you?”

 

 

“Not in the least,” he answered with a tired smile and I sat down, carefully choosing my next words and checking them for hidden meaning and traps. 

 

 

“I thought there wouldn't be that much paperwork since the Geth seem to be quite calm,” I said, nodding towards the black screen of the datapad. Shepard followed the direction of my eyes and shook his head slowly. “No, there's really not much to do. But this is about Sovereign.” He sighed exhausted. “I have been looking for anything that could tell me from where the Reapers come, or even how long they already exist, but I can't find anything. They are still a mystery to me.”

 

 

I nodded understandingly. “I would prefer if they staid a mystery,” I admitted with an apologetic smile. “I'm not too eager to meet them again.”

 

 

“So am I, believe me.” His eyes darkened for a moment with something close to sadness. “I would prefer to stay out of life threatening situations for now, but I chose the wrong job for that.” 

 

 

I couldn't help the feeling that he was thinking of Ashley. Somehow, it always came down to that. While it had meant nothing to the rest of the universe, losing her had changed everything for us. There was still guilt inside me, bubbling up and into my thoughts whenever someone mentioned her. Seeing Shepard sitting here across from me, his shoulders slumped, his brows furrowed and his normally shining eyes clouded by his loss made me wish for being able to change places with her. I wished I could turn back the time, just blow myself into oblivion with the bomb, or don't avoid that bullet aimed for my head. 

 

 

But there was a reason he had chosen me. That I still didn't know what the reason was didn't make it nonexistent. I would never try to ask him again, and maybe it was better that way, because if I found out and couldn't live up to his expectations it would send me into a gaping abyss of guilt and remorse.

 

 

“Well, I guess we can't do much about that for now,” I said to him and stood up. “But what we can do is take a drink.” For a moment, he looked at me surprised, and I feared that I had talked nonsense again. It must have showed on my face, because he smiled at me encouragingly, his eyes glinting with something close to cheerfulness. “Sounds good to me.” 

 

 

I nodded and turned around, trying to calm my furiously beating heart down. His smiles threw me off balance, reminded me of _why_ I couldn't sleep at night. But there was no place for these kind of musings now, we were having a drink, yes, but that was about all of it. Just a drink in a friendly moment of companionship. That's all. Nothing more. 

 

 

I found a bottle of whiskey in one of the cupboards. Nothing of high quality, but certainly better than lukewarm beer. When I turned towards the table again, two glasses where already standing there and Shepard was just sitting back down. 

 

 

Seemingly more relaxed now, he let one of his arms hang over the back of his chair, and I had to admit that I had seldom seen this off-duty side of his. It was... _special_ to see him like this, dropping the strict army behavior and just being himself, no straight posture, and the neutral and reserved expression on his face exchanged for a comfortable smile. It turned the whole situation into something more personal and I got the feeling that I could really help him getting his mind off the things that bothered him. Forget the Council, forget the Reapers, we could continue worrying about them tomorrow. 

 

 

I poured some of the whiskey into the glasses and sat down again, pushing one of the drinks over to Shepard and lifting my own for a toast. “To our friends,” I said with a smile. 

 

 

“To those we have won and those we will never forget,” Shepard answered, but this time, there was nothing clouding his eyes.

 

 

Φ

 

 

“Shepard, duck!” I yelled. Immediately, my Commander threw himself to the ground and the bolt of biotic energy I had thrown flew over his head, hitting the Geth that was standing in front of him right in the chest and throwing it against the wall of rock the synthetic had stood in front of. 

 

 

The machine cracked audibly, but Shepard didn't hesitate and fired a well-placed bullet into the synthetic's head, still laying prone on the ground. 

 

 

“Is everyone all right?” I heard his voice inside my helmet while he jumped back to his feet.

 

 

“Yes, Commander,” Marony answered and I turned around to see her climbing over a boulder, her rifle still in hand and ready. 

 

 

“Good,” Shepard said and walked towards the Geth we'd just killed, or rather destroyed, to check if we had really finished or merely deactivated it. We couldn't allow ourselves to turn our back towards it before we knew it would definitely not stand up again and shoot us from behind. I did the same with the rest of the Geth we had just encountered, while Marony kept an eye out for more of them from her position on top of the boulder. 

 

 

The young sniper had been transferred to the Normandy one week before by Hackett, her dossier perfect and including a letter of recommendation by the Admiral himself. So far she had proven herself capable and nearly as talented as Garrus when it came to handling a sniper rifle and with her our shore party had returned to the number of three people. 

 

 

“Corporal Marony, radio Joker to send us a shuttle to our current position. Lieutenant, to me.”

 

 

“Understood,” the Corporal answered and started typing away on her omni-tool.

 

 

I walked over to Shepard and past Marony, who was already talking to Joker, her voice muffled through her helmet; she'd shut the two of us out of her comm to call the Normandy, but the glance she shot me when I passed her told me that was not the only reason. Clever girl.

 

 

Shepard had already taken off his helmet when I reached him and I did the same. There was a bead of sweat running down the side of his face, and I followed it with my eyes further down his neck until-- concentrate, Kaidan!

 

 

“So, what do you think of her, Kaidan?” He nodded shortly in Marony's direction and I saw that she had turned her back towards us, searching the sky for any signs of the shuttle. 

 

 

“Well, I think she lives up to the things Admiral Hackett wrote in the recommendation.” I said, glad to be able to look at something else than Shepard's face. “And she is an excellent sniper. Not as excellent as Garrus, but well, the Turian spoiled us.”

 

 

“Yeah.” Shepard grinned when I mentioned the Turian sniper again. He did that often now, since that evening in the mess where we'd shared whiskey and stories. It felt like there had formed a bond between us that night, and it kept growing with every day. Along with my hopes. It grew and grew with every smile he showed me, every companionably pat on my back, every conspiratorial glance and every shared laugh, and it didn't matter how often I told myself that it _didn't mean anything_. 

 

 

I stared at his profile and felt myself starting to smile too, only because he was smiling. But then he turned back to me again, and the boyish grin got weaker until it was replaced by his professional neutral look. “And what do you think of her personally?” The question and his sudden soberness took me by surprise and I needed some time to think about it.

 

 

“So far she has been relatively silent,” I finally said. “We have only talked once or twice, and she was attentive but reserved and her answers where short. But maybe she only has to warm up to us.” I shrugged, carefully avoiding to show any form of confusion over his behavior. In the end, as Staff Lieutenant it was my responsibility to talk to a new crew member. 

 

 

He nodded and looked at me, searching my face for something. I had no idea for what. The moment passed, and he gave me a companionable clap on the shoulders. “Well, let's hope she will warm up to us.” 

 

 

Then he walked away, towards the shuttle approaching us, announcing its arrival with the sound of its engines. Somehow, I felt that I had missed something, but I couldn't tell what or why it would leave this unsettling feeling behind.

 

 

Φ

 

 

Shepard put the cards down on the table and Joker cursed. I settled for a sigh and threw my hand on the table as well. Nothing could beat Shepard's poker face, and in combination with alcohol everyone else was destined to lose the game against him. I could already feel the telltale heat rising to my cheeks, and my limps felt heavy with the invisible weight of alcohol. That, and the fact that I had already lost a few hundred Credits to Shepard made me decide to end the night now.

 

 

“Well, I'll go to bed now. The Commander has stolen enough from me for today.” I offered him a lop-sided smile to make up for the remark. He winked at me, and my heart made an unhealthy leap of joy. 

 

 

“I'm gonna call it a night too,” Shepard said, and stood up, making a show of collecting the pile of Credits in the middle of the table. “Good night.”

 

 

“Good night to you too, Commander,” Marony said in her usual strict and slightly impersonal army behavior.

 

 

“Night,” Joker said while shuffling the cards for a last match between him and the Corporal.

 

 

“Should I call for security to escort you to your room, Commander? Someone could try to rob you, considering the amount of money you're carrying around,” I said as soon as the door closed behind us with a hiss. Shepard smirked in a manner that made a lump grow in my throat. “Since you're already here, I guess you could do that.”

 

 

I was glad my cheeks were already red thanks to the alcohol, because else he could have seen me blushing. The idea of me coming near his quarters was exiting and scaring at the same time, since I remembered my confession, but also noticed the low tone his voice had adopted. He surely wasn't implying.

 

 

What the fuck, Kaidan?! Pull yourself together! There was no way... Or was there?

 

 

I cleared my throat. This was dangerous ground, too dangerous, it could cost my position on the Normandy. Even worse – it could end the delicate bond of friendship between us. Caution was in order. 

 

 

“Okay...” I said, and hoped desperately he wouldn't notice that my voice was a bit too high-pitched for my liking. “I could do that.”

 

 

The silence between us was not really uncomfortable, but filled with the electricity of excitement. There was warmth in my stomach, on my cheeks, and, I had to admit, also lower down. I was most likely reading too much into his offer, really, and I should stop doing it, but my mind was drunk on alcohol and feelings alike, happily drawing images of us standing in front of his quarters, caught in a moment of togetherness, our faces so close to each other we were sharing the same air, eyes locked, lips drawing nearer until our breaths tickled the sensitive skin of them, then finally brushing--

 

 

“Thank you, Kaidan.”

 

 

I snapped out of my daydreams, and became suddenly aware of us standing in front of the door to his quarters. My heart was beating furiously against my rip cage, and it took all my will power to calm it down.

 

 

“You're welcome, Commander,” I answered, voice a bit raspy.

 

 

“John.” It took me some time to realize that he had just offered me to use his first name, and all my former attempts of forcing my heart into a healthy rhythm were shattered. I nodded.

 

 

“Good night, John.” The name felt unfamiliar, but at the same time good, and it left a sweet taste on the tip of my tongue.

 

 

“Good night, Kaidan.”

 

 

He stepped through the door and it closed, but not before he had the time to offer me a last, warm smile that left me standing a bit longer than necessary on his doorstep, rooted to the ground by the feelings of bliss taking over my body.

 

 

Φ

 

 

It was only later that same night that the world turned upside down and finally threw me in that hungry abyss that had been patiently waiting for me.

 

 

The alarms were screaming clusterfuck, the fires told me the Normandy could be considered history. 

 

 

Sometime between jumping out of my bunk and rushing towards the bridge I must have managed to put on my suit. I had no idea how I fastened the clasps of it, but adrenaline is a wonder of itself, capable of rinsing the remaining alcohol out of my system and letting my mind focus on the important things. Finding a way to Shepard.

 

 

The ship shook violently, and I was thrown against a wall so hard stars danced in vision for a short moment. Stumbling, I made my way through the other crew mates running towards the escape shuttles. I heard screams of pain and dread alike, saw people laying limply on the floor, barely noticed the fire licking its way along the walls and through the ship.

 

 

“Lieutenant!” Chakwas suddenly appeared next to me, grabbed my arm. “Doctor, what--”

 

 

“Joker's still on the bridge, he won't leave!” There was fear in her eyes, something I'd never seen before when it came to her. It just confirmed the gravity of our situation. I nodded, and grabbed her arms, shoved her towards the general direction of the shuttles that meant safety. “I'll take care of this. Go!”

 

 

She hesitated, but only for a moment, then she turned around and run off, and I saw her hurriedly pulling someone up from the floor.

 

 

Another tremor rolled through the ship. There was no time. Chakwas would make it on her own, I had other things to do. Again, I started to run, barely dodged a steel beam crashing down, nearly burying me beneath it. I listened to the sound of the Normandy's hull breaking and being ripped apart. A familiar head with short red hair came in sight, and I grabbed Marony's arm, steadied her when an explosion shook the ship for a third time. 

 

 

“Evacuate! Immediately!” I yelled over the sound of the sirens, the screams and the crackling fires, and she nodded. “The Commander is over there,” she answered and pointed to the armor lockers behind her. “Good luck, Lieutenant.”

 

 

And then she was gone.

 

 

I spotted Shepard's familiar form in front of his locker, and relieve washed over me. “Shepard!”

 

 

He turned around, his helmet in hand and I saw the same feeling of relieve mirrored on his face. “Distress beacon is ready for launch,” he informed me, and grabbed a fire extinguisher, threw it towards me, and took another one for himself. It was pointless, really. The fire had spread too far already, but at least we could stop it from burning us then and there.

 

 

“Joker's still in the cockpit. He won't abandon the ship.” I gave my best to choke the fire, but whenever I had stopped it at one point of the wall, it started licking at another. Frustrated, I threw the extinguisher into a corner and turned towards Shepard. “I'm not leaving either.”

 

 

He was typing something into a console but stopped as soon as I'd told him my plans. The ship shook again and we were thrown against each other, and I felt his strong hands closing around my arms to steady me, his helmet clattering to the ground. I held onto him for dear life. “No back talk, Kaidan,” he barked. “I need you to get the crew onto the evac shuttles. I'll take care of Joker.”

 

 

“John--” I tried, but he squeezed my arms so hard I was sure he would've left bruises if I wouldn't have worn my suit. “That's an order!”

 

 

Another explosion, the screech of metal grinding against metal, and we were thrown against the next wall, my back pressed against it, Shepard pressed against my chest. He stared into my eyes, and I stared back, my breath caught in my throat, my heart ready to burst, his arms around my waist, my hands clutching his upper arms.

 

 

And suddenly there it was, that moment I've had longed for so long. Our lips crushing together, our teeth clinking against each other, tongues battling, his warm breath coming raspy from his lungs and mixing with mine, my knees so weak they were ready to buckle, but Shepard held me up, pressed me against the wall with his own weight, one hand in my hair, the other tight around my waist. It was a wild first kiss, not exactly how I had pictured it countless times in my dreams, more teeth and fierceness than soft lips and coyness, but wonderful anyway. I could feel his feelings – the long hidden desire, his fear, the desperation, the longing – all channeled into one, breathtaking kiss that swept me off my feet.

 

 

But it came too late, and it was over too quickly. It left us panting, all hot cheeks and ruffled hair, our eyes begging for more, but we had to go, had to _let go_ of each other for now, had to answer to the screaming of the alarm, had to evacuate. 

 

 

“Kaidan,” his voice was barely audible, too soft and breathless and with a tone of finality. “Go. Now!”

 

 

“No, John, let me--”

 

 

He pulled me away from the wall, dragged me away from the lockers and into the corridor. “I said _no talking back!_ Go! NOW!” 

 

 

“But John--”

 

 

“GO!” He shoved me away, desperation and pain in his eyes. I hesitated, watched him picking up his helmet from the floor. “I'll see you later,” he said and put on his helmet. I nodded, because I knew nothing would come out if I opened my mouth. The words were stopped by the suffocating lump in my throat and the heavy feeling settling down on my heart. For a second, we dared to stare at each other.

 

 

Then he whirled around and ran off towards the bridge, and I was left standing there, feeling something wet running down my cheeks.

 


	5. A Coffee and a Chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I am so sorry this took me so long! I know, the people who follow this fic are already used to waiting quite some time (shame on me!), but this felt like it took extra long. I am soooo sooo sorry, it was because of christmas and my boyfriend staying here (he's from another country) for quite some time, so I could only write a bit every time.
> 
> But now I am in a real writing fit, and ready to write the next chapter.
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

 

 

I am a soldier. Death is not unfamiliar to me. Same as loss. Loss is a part of life, we encounter it several times until we turn to a loss to someone else. It starts with a pet, usually. Then goes on with the grand-parents, followed eventually by parents. If you choose the same profession as me, loss becomes a more severe part of your existence. 

 

 

I have seen people die in battle. Soldiers, comrades, some of them friends. One of them the person...

 

 

Soldiers. That's what we are. One could say you should get accustomed to seeing people die, because that is what happens to us. It is a sacrifice we have to make for keeping others safe. We fight so they don't have to. We die so they don't have to.

 

 

But we _never_ get used to seeing our comrades die. At least not me. Sometimes I still wake up at night, covered in sweat, heart beating too fast, breath coming too short, the lifeless faces of my friends burned into my mind, staring at me, accusative in all their emptiness. _Why didn't you safe us? Why did we have to die?_

_Why didn't_ you _die?_

 

 

Dieing would've made so many things easier for me. I wouldn't have to think about Ashley, who died in my place on Virmire. I wouldn't have seen all these people laying limply on the Normandy's floor, some of them already being eaten by fires, others being thrown against walls by explosions. Like Marony. Her body hit the floor right in front of our evac shuttle, so close to safety. I'll never forget how she lay there; limbs spread in an awkward angle, her slack face turned towards us, eyes empty, staring at nothing, sprinkles of blood on her face, in her hair, making the short strands stick together.

 

 

I could have been the one ending there.

On the ground.

Dead.

 

 

But I wasn't, and I had to make sure nobody else was. I hit the button next too the door, and it closed with a loud bang that sounded eerily final. And it was.

 

 

The security locks released the shuttle and we were shot out into the universe, away from the ship we'd called home for the last year, and I was sure we'd never see it again. I stumbled over to one of the seats and slumped into it. I was exhausted, worn-out, crushed. My world was crumbling along with my sanity. 

 

 

There were no windows in the shuttle, screens serving as the only connection to the outside. Silent sobs were the only sound. I didn't know who was crying, but I didn't care. I was numb. Everything felt unreal, empty, dead.

 

 

We were helpless. The safety of the shuttle was just an illusion. There were thousands of what-ifs bouncing around in my mind, endlessly. 

 

 

What if that strange ship found us?

What if the distress beacon malfunctioned and we were left to suffocate here?

 

What if Shepard couldn't get off the Normandy in time and--

 

 

I stopped myself before I could think it through. I would not go there, not now that he had... _kissed me._ My heart made a leap, stuttered, stopped, started beating again. He couldn't die. Not now, not without me. He couldn't leave me now that we had finally found each other. 

 

 

I could still feel the warmth of his lips lingering on mine, the soft scratching of stubble against my cheek, his hot breath, the hard tips of his gloves scraping over my scalp when he grabbed my hair to pull me closer against his chest. The fierceness of the kiss, the desperate feeling it carried. I didn't want our first kiss to be the last one at the same time.

 

 

I could only beg for his safe return.

 

 

Φ

 

 

My legs gave in. Heavy, so heavy. Couldn't breathe. Suffocating.

 

 

“I am sorry, Alenko, I--”

 

 

Numb. _He's dead. He's dead. He's dead._

 

 

“I wanted to tell it you myself.”

 

 

I wanted to hate him. His fault. All his fault. Couldn't abandon the ship. Had to stay with his Normandy. Salt. The taste of it on the tip of my tongue.

 

 

“He came to rescue me--”

 

 

He wouldn't abandon anyone. Never. Couldn't. Foolish. Foolish. _Foolish!_

 

 

“--closed the door. I wanted to grab him, but I couldn't.”

 

 

I couldn't hate him. Wanted to. Someone to blame but myself for letting him go.

 

 

“I'm so sorry, Kaidan.”

 

 

So was I.

 

 

Φ

 

 

_The sun was setting and it was beautiful. Slowly it descended towards the sea, changing its color from yellow to orange and to red, at last to purple. The clouds around it adopted its play of colors as well as the sea beneath it, until everything in front of us turned into a painting of red and purple._

 

 

“ _It's beautiful,” I said and looked over to Shepard._

 

 

“ _Yes,” he agreed, the boyish smile on his lips that I so loved. He was sitting next to me, propped up on his arms, and his legs sprawled out in front of him. His face was relaxed and lacked any worry lines, so that he looked younger than I had ever seen him._

 

 

_It was peaceful. Beneath us the waves crashed against the cliffs, as if they were jealous of what we had together. But they couldn't reach us where we were sitting, and nothing could harm us here._

 

 

_I leaned back until I was laying in the grass and took a deep breath. Above us, the stars already came up, white dots on the dark blanket called night sky. We had been there once, a long time ago. In another life where we had to face death nearly everyday, where we had lost friends and comrades and sometimes the will to live._

 

 

_But that was history now._

 

 

_I turned my head to the right and saw Shepard lying there, still smiling and looking back at me, his eyes showing me the inside of his heart, pouring his feelings out to me without speaking a single word. We were safe, we were together, we were happy._

 

 

_Shepard took my hand into his own and drew it first to his chest, then lifted it to his lips and planted a soft kiss to the back of it._

 

 

“ _I wish this would never end,” I told him, and reached out with my other hand to touch his cheek, feel the stubble on it scratching against my fingertips, feel_ him.

 

 

_But suddenly it was as if he was miles away. I tried to touch him again and again, and although he was still laying next to me, my hand wouldn't reach him._

 

 

“ _You know this has to end, Kaidan,” he said, and the smile was gone. Dark rings appeared around his eyes and his skin became so white that it looked as if it was transparent._

 

 

“ _No, Shepard!” I gasped, tried harder to reach him, to grab him and press him against me so he would stop to fade. “Don't leave me alone, please! Please!” I had to touch him, grab him, press him against my chest. Don't leave me alone. Please, not again. Please!_

 

 

“ _I am sorry Kaidan.”_ _The rings around his eyes became darker until they were completely black, his cheeks hollowed out and he bared his teeth at me-- no, his skull bared its teeth at me,_ _grinning in his death._

 

 

“SHEPARD!” I screamed and woke up.

 

 

Φ

 

 

Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko is woken by his alarm clock. Its glowing digits tell him it's 0545, he stands up and does his morning workout for half an hour. Ten minutes for showering and getting dressed.

 

Breakfast at point 0630.

 

Training with the 1st Special Operations Biotic Company at 0700.

 

1200: Lunch.

 

1230: Training.

 

1800: Dinner.

 

1830: Lieutenant Alenko writes his reports and goes through new orders.

 

1923: Reports and orders for the day are written and sent.

 

1937: Lieutenant Alenko reads through the day's reports a second time.

 

2005: He reads through the reports of the whole week.

 

2118: The Lieutenant reads the day's reports a third time.

 

2149: He opens the Alliance Personnel Files and types 'John Sh'.

 

2151: He turns the data pad off and goes to bed.

 

2200: Curfew, the lights are turned off.

 

2326: Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko falls asleep.

 

 

Φ

 

 

_I looked to my left and there he was, sleeping peacefully in our bed, looking young and unharmed. Slowly, I reached out and touched his face, followed his hairline with my fingertips, down his temple and over his cheekbones along his jaw towards his neck._

 

 

_He was here, together with me and that was all that mattered. Nothing would ever separate us again. I wouldn't let it happen. I wouldn't lose him again._

 

 

_I rolled on my side and slung my arm around his waist. He sighed in his sleep, but didn't wake up until I kissed his forehead. Slowly, he cracked an eye open and looked at me, sleepy and adorable as he was._

 

 

“ _Look at you, the great Commander Shepard, Hero of the Citadel, looking all boyish in his sleep,” I teased him and he grunted in mocked annoyance. The laughter came easily to me, now that I was happy and Shepard was safe in my arms, near me._

 

 

“ _Don't be so sassy, Lieutenant, or I will show you your place.” He grumbled but smiled fondly, in a breathtaking way._

 

 

“ _So?” I perked a brow. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”_

 

 

“ _Like this!” he said and rolled on top of me, pressing me down into the mattress with his weight, his hands tight around my wrists, but not tight enough to hurt. His lips parted in a wide and toothy grin. “And what are you going to say now?”_

 

 

“ _I give up, you are too strong,” I answered in mocked surrender._

 

 

“ _Thought so.” He lowered his head to capture my lips in a kiss, and I responded greedily, needing his touch like the air I breathe. The kiss was long and passionate, nearly desperate, and left us panting audibly. We stared at each other for a moment, and I lost myself in his gray eyes, was swallowed by them, embraced, and I wished it would never end._

 

 

_Shepard opened his mouth and said something, but I couldn't hear him over the repeated and offensive beeping._

 

 

I reached out and turned my alarm off.

 

 

Φ

 

 

0545: Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko stands up and does his morning workout for half an hour.

 

 

Φ

 

 

I had been numb for the last year. Everything had lost color, taste and scent. The days had gone by slowly, seemingly endless. I longed for them to end, because only in my dreams I could _feel_ again. At day, I was Lieutenant Alenko, biotic, trainer, soldier, survivor of the tragedy of the Normandy. 

 

 

But at night, I was Kaidan again. Back in his arms, like at that last moment, lips pressed onto each other in a deep, breathtaking kiss. I wished with all my heart to be able to return to that moment. To stop the time right there and then and hold on to the feeling forever, caught in time. Never letting go.

 

 

But I had to let go. It seemed impossible. It was. It is. I could not forget him. Not that I wanted to anyway. The Normandy had been the last place I had truly felt at home. The crew had become my second family, but they were gone. And the ones who remained tried their hardest to forget as well. 

 

 

I only saw them once or twice again. But the meetings were awkward, overshadowed by loss and terrible memories. Doctor Chakwas was the only one I saw more frequently. Somehow, she seemed to feel responsible for me. She would come to the base and take me out for a coffee, tell me of her work and the kids they would bring to her. I mostly sat there and listened to the voice I had found myself wake up to several times on the Normandy. It was soothing. 

 

 

But one day, she wasn't alone when she visited me.

 

 

“Kaidan,” she greeted me with a broad smile and pulled me to her chest and into a tight hug. Her voice always adapted that special tone reserved for caring mothers who haven't seen their child in a while – a mixture of joy, relief and playful reproach.

 

 

I saw the other woman over her shoulder. This is usually the part where I am supposed to say her beauty struck me like lightning. She was pretty, yes. Petite, brunette, rosy cheeks, a lopsided and shy smile on full lips, someone who surely had the ability to draw all eyes to her whenever she entered a room. But that was not the reason she left me speechless.

 

 

“That's Carla,” Chakwas introduced her as soon as she had let go of me. “A colleague of mine.” The Doctor's smile was wicked and her eyes glinted mischievously.

 

 

“Hello,” Carla said and offered me her hand. “Nice to meet you.” Her handshake was stronger than I would've expected. She smiled, and I opened my mouth to introduce myself, but no words came out.

 

 

It were her eyes. They were gray. Like the sky after a storm. Kind, caring, worried, strong. So deep I could lose myself in them if I stared too long. It struck a chord with me, and memories started to boil uncomfortably in my stomach. Painful memories of stubble scratching against my cheek, a hand in my hair, the other around my waist, rough lips on my own that made me deaf to the sirens screaming around us. And memories of the emptiness that followed. 

 

 

Of all the women in the world, Dr. Chakwas had to introduce the one with eyes so similar to Shepard's to me. Those eyes were threatening to throw me back into the abyss I had tried my hardest to climb out of. 

 

 

“Kaidan,” I said when I had regained my composure and swallowed the suffocating lump in my throat. “I know.” She smiled, but added, “would you mind giving me my hand back?”

 

 

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I--” I cleared my throat. Wonderful. I met this woman for the first time and now she already must have thought I was a blabbering idiot. Maybe it was better that way. I didn't know if I could stand looking into these eyes without losing the rest of my sanity. 

 

 

Φ

 

 

Carla was nothing like John. She was extroverted, sometimes even loud, always straightforward, and often emotional. She loved to laugh, and it was contagious.

 

 

I remember our first date. It hadn't been romantic like in a movie or book, not magical. To be honest, it started rather awkward and nearly went completely down the drain. 

 

 

I had been on a morning run on one of my free days. Free days had always been the worst, because there had been no work to occupy my mind with. So I decided to throw myself into a furious workout at these times, glad for the distraction and the endless stream of endorphins being pumped into my system. 

 

 

She had been waiting for me in front of the door to my small apartment on the base, and I was so surprised to find someone standing there that I didn't recognized her at first. Never had I thought she would want to see me again after that awkward introduction and the few hours after it in which I had been sitting next to the two women and listened to them talking since I was too overwhelmed to speak. 

 

 

But when she lifted her head and I was captured by the gray, deep pools of her eyes again, there was no doubt who she was. “Carla,” I blurted out, not capable of hiding my surprise over seeing her here.

 

 

“Hello Kaidan,” she said and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I hope I didn't come at a bad time?” she admitted, and I felt bad for making her feel a bit uncomfortable. “Oh. No no,” I hurried to say. ”No. I was just a bit surprised, but uhm...” I fiddled with the lock at the door, my fingers suddenly too clumsy to key in the code. Finally the lock clicked and I hastily shoved the door open and took a step back. “Please, come in.”

 

 

“Thank you,” she said with a smile and walked past me into the spartan room. She smelled of chamomile. 

 

 

“Would you like a coffee?” I asked and hurriedly tried to get rid of the pile of datapads on my table-slash-workplace. “Yes, thank you.” She slowly walked around the room, looked at the boring standard furniture I hadn't bothered to change in any way. The room over all lacked any traces of personality. If it weren't for the clothes in my wardrobe and the datapads scattered all over the table, one could've thought this room was vacant. This wasn't home. It never would be.

 

 

“I am sorry for the--” _mess_? You couldn't call it such. It was more the lack of a mess that was standing out. I settled for “the state of my room.” It sounded more like a question. She snorted a laugh and combed a hand through her long chestnut brown hair. “I guess this is only a temporary home, so why bother?” 

 

 

“Yes, temporary.” I put our cups in the machine and let it do its magic, carefully avoiding the question if a year could still be considered to fall under the term 'temporary'. “Sugar? Milk?”

 

 

“Yes and yes.” When I turned around I saw that Carla had made herself comfortable on the small sofa beneath the window, her jacket hanging over its back. She'd taken her shoes off and was now sitting cross-legged on the soft cushions. Her familiarity was impressive, and it must have shown on my face, because she looked a bit uncertain for a moment. “Sorry,” she said and moved around, but I stopped her. “Ah no, it's alright,” I assured with a hopefully convincing smile. “I was just... not expecting someone to make themselves at home here so fast. Considering--” _I can't_. 

 

 

“Considering you can't?”

 

 

Had she just-- Had I...? No, I hadn't said that out loud. How could she--? The smile was no longer present on her face. It had made room for a neutral expression that was only betrayed by the understanding in her eyes. We looked at each other for a long moment, me being too surprised to say anything, she waiting for me to say something.

 

 

“Excuse me?”

 

 

“Oh no, I did it again.”

 

 

We had started talking at the same moment, what made the situation even more awkward. I didn't know what else to do than standing there, the tray with our cups, milk and sugar still in hand, staring at her. 

 

 

“I'm so sorry, Kaidan,” she finally said while burying her face in her hands. Her sigh was more an annoyed groan. “Sorry.”

 

 

“What--?” I shook my head and sat the tray down on the couch table, wiped my suddenly sweaty hands on my pants. “What just happened? I could've sworn you just read my mind.”

 

 

She laughed, short and with a tinge of bitterness. “Honestly, I'm sorry. I know it's kind of a downer to do this. And no, I can't read minds, perish the thought!” She sighed again and clicked her tongue. “Where do I start? I know, first sit down,” she patted the empty cushion next to herself, and I hesitantly sat down and took my cup, clung to it like to an anchor of sanity in this incredible situation.

 

 

“Karin told you that I am a colleague of hers, right?” I nodded and she continued, “and yes, I am a doctor, but a psychologist.” I opened my mouth to say something. Doctor Chakwas had introduced me to a psychologist? Without me knowing? I felt anger boiling up in my stomach, but before I could voice my feelings, Carla interrupted me by lifting her hand. “No, I am _not_ here to examine you. I came here for a chat and maybe a coffee. That before was merely a shot in the dark that ended up as a bullseye. And honestly, I'm sorry.” 

 

 

For what felt like the hundredth time today, I didn't know what to say. I just sat there, staring at her face, the apologetic way she twisted her lips, the small wrinkle between her eyebrows, the way her eyes flickered over my face nervously, searching for something. She apparently didn't find it, because she made to stand up. Before I even noticed it, my hand snapped forward and closed around her wrist, holding her back. She looked as surprised as I felt, but settled back down in the cushions. 

 

 

“No harm done,” I heard myself say. “And there's still a coffee waiting for you.”

 

 

She smiled, and in the first time in what felt like ages, my heart lost the heavy weight it had carried around for far too long.

 

 

Φ

 

 

Carla and I saw each other again after that. We met for a chat and coffee again and again, and in the time of a month the gaps between our meetings became less and less until we saw each other several times a week. It felt like I could tell her nearly anything, like we had known each other since forever. Sometimes I didn't even have to say anything and Carla would do the talking. She didn't mind and I liked that about her. We talked about her work, about her family, politics. About my time in the brain camp, my parents, my work. But the Normandy was still a taboo. I just couldn't bring myself to fill the black space in her knowledge of me. It still hurt too much. Time and Carla had reduced the pain to a dampened shadow of its former self, but it was still there, a red scar on the fabric of my soul, itching, unable to heal completely. I didn't even know if I wanted it to heal. Maybe Carla would've known what to do. I'm certain she would've helped me if I would have asked, but I didn't. This scar belonged to me. I didn't want to forget, didn't want to make it go completely away, didn't want Shepard to vanish from my dreams. It was everything I still had from him, and although I could feel something delicate starting to bloom in my feelings towards Clara, I knew that the things I had felt – and still did – for Shepard would never find its equal.

 

 

You could have said I was playing with Clara, and that I should have been completely honest with her. Maybe, but looking back, I realize now that she knew from the beginning. I know because of the way she never asked about anyone before her, and stirred the conversation to other grounds whenever it came dangerously near to the time I served on the Normandy. She never said anything, though, and I don't know if it hurt her. It is likely, of course, more than I might want to admit, and it had been doubtlessly selfish of me to do what I did, but it _felt so good_.

 

 

Clara had the surprising power to keep me away from the black, gaping abyss in my mind that had self-guilt and regret waiting for me at its bottom. It was wonderful to not have to throw myself into work and training to get my mind off things, but instead just have a nice evening with her. She made me feel better, I made her laugh. I made her talk about her feelings, her worries, her problems. 

 

 

I guess the kiss was inevitable. 

 

 

It even was romantic, in front of her apartment after we had been out to watch a movie and drink something afterward. We had walked home arm in arm through the citadel's brightly lit streets, retelling each other our favorite scenes of the movie and laughing freely about it. Time run by, and it seemed way too fast that we stood in front of the door, smiling at each other. 

 

 

“Thank you for this nice evening,” she said, and hugged me for a long moment. “Thank you too,” I answered and wrapped my arms around her waist, closed my eyes and inhaled the smell of the chamomile tea she used to serve her patients. We stood there for a moment like this, until she leaned back, only far enough for our faces to be in front of each other, so close I could feel her warm breath on my skin. I saw her eyes flickering towards my lips, then they returned to looking into my own, and I got lost in them. Gray pools filled with desire, hesitancy, a question. _Do you want to...?_ they asked me.

 

 

And yes, I wanted to.

 

 

Slowly I leaned in, closing the distance between us until I could feel the warm softness of her lips on mine. 

 

 

It was a chaste kiss, so different from the one I had with Shepard. No teeth clinking together, no tongues battling for domination over the other, no fingertips scraping over my scalp, no hair getting caught in the joints of metal gloves, no burning desire that had been kept safe and unnoticed for so long.

 

 

The kiss was like a warm embrace, a fall into a soft, warm bed, blankets wrapping around my very soul, keeping it safe from everything else. I got lost in it until we slowly broke apart. We looked at each other and smiled.

 

  
“Good night, Kaidan,” she said then and gave me a peck on the chin.

 

 

“Good night, Carla,” I answered and watched her close the door behind her.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, Kaidan, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! 
> 
> Well, well, well, what are we gonna do now? First they're kissing and the next thing you know they're getting married!
> 
> Naaah, we can't let that happen, can we?
> 
> This is merely a small 'fling' (sorry, Carla xP). Cut the poor guy some slack, he needs a bit of love. And hey, he still thinks Sheploo is dead, so yeah Kaidan, you are forgiven! But don't screw up, YOU HEAR ME!?
> 
> ...please don't screw up. (You could think I'm not in charge of what happens. And really, I'm not. This just writes itself and I am watching where it goes. Well, time to continue then. ;)


End file.
